Thursday 27 March 2014

The Occult and Helios' Eye (part 4)

Filming concluded that night in the room where the mini electromagnetic pulse machine had been deployed. As the complexes clock tower struck nine: thirty, Joan asked to go to the toilet. As planned, Miss DeMode accompanied her, however the curators assistant escorted them towards the public bathrooms.
As they entered the toilet, they managed to ditch the escort, and waited patiently for him to disappear. Five minutes later, he did so, and they sneaked out, towards the restoration room.
Despite being a fairly new building, the Public Alexandrian Museum was built in honour of the European museums that revolutionised the mass collection of artefacts. All the walls were decorated with paintings of ancient kings, the doges of Venice and other famous pieces of work. Miss DeMode smiled at an imitation of Da Vinci's Girl with tangled hair. It had always been her favourite painting.
They finally arrived at the door of the restoration room, a labyrinth of intricate workshops, each holding marvellous wonders, not too far away from legendary. The door was old and detailed, but that was just an illusion. Inside the door was a magnetised sheet of metal, which held the door to the frame, unless a keycard was inserted into the scanner besides the door. Miss DeMode pulled out her scribe, an experimental smart phone that the Occult had built. She opened the first app and a series of numbers came up. Smiling she told the numbers to Joan, who inserted a business card into the scanner. It beeped green and she typed the numbers in. Slowly the door swung opened.
They ran in and consulted a computer system, finding the location of two different artefacts. They ran to the first and dropped it into a labelled box. They loaded the box onto a trolley and pushed it to the room in which the other artefact was stored. They opened the box and took the artefact out. It was round and smooth, unlike the artefact in this room, which was round but rough. There was an identical box in the room, identical in every way apart from the label on the front.
Miss DeMode, quite carefully, started chip away at the second artefact whilst Joan swapped the labels. Once DeMode had finished her preparation of the second artefact, she and Joan dropped them carefully into the two boxes.
All of a sudden, the lights went out. But Joan and Miss DeMode didn't react. It was part of the plan.
They flicked on their torches and carried one of the boxes to the room they had started in. They were approaching the door when they heard a terrible sound. Two security guards approached the restoration room. Both Occult members flicked off their torches and crouched down, as the guards pulled out their key cards. Miss DeMode whipped out the scribe and quickly turned it on, cursing the flare of the hand held screen. She went onto the same app she'd used to open the door and pressed several buttons and then placed the phone down.
Two minutes later, the guards walked off, muttering something in Egyptian. DeMode gave out a breath of relief and then climbed up, leading Joan out. They returned to Bone Piern and Word Chain, just as the lights turned back on. Miss DeMode smiled and explained that she and Joan had become lost in the dark, just as the plan required.
They continued filming and then, the next day, were escorted to the private airfield that the museum owned. "It's been a pleasure to have you," the curators said, from the back seat of the car.
"Trust me." Bone Piern said. "The pleasure is all ours."
"I can't wait to see the documentary!" The curator cried.
"Neither can I." Joan muttered. Two planes rolled out of a hangar. "What are they?"
"Our two courier planes. One of them is taking the replica head of David by our copying friend." The curator assistant replied.
"Oh!" Joan replied.
After they finished talking, the Occult members climbed onto their jet and flew all the way back to England.

A week later:
"I don't see why I can't have champagne?" Joan asked as everyone clashed their glasses.
"Because I will not have children taking alcohol." Peter Abbandon replied. "It's against the law."
"Say's the man who orchestrated a grand heist."
Joan's friend pulled her off, behind the buffet table. They all called him Spud, due to his infatuation with Bob the Builder's scarecrow friend, and he had quite recently become Miss DeModes personal lab rat, after she'd had him convey a brief case with a lot of money in to Bainsbridge repository.
"Don't be rude to Mr Abbandon." Spud whispered. "He can do terrible things to you!"
"I don't see why you're so scared of him. He's an angel really." She giggled ever so slightly, but Spud didn't get it.
"Alright." He paused scratching his head. "Can you tell me how you did it then. I mean, I understand why the guards didn't get in, but I don't understand the rest."
"Deary me Spud!" Her time with Peter showing. "It's obvious once you know how it's done."

To be concluded

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